Until I Get You Read Online Claire Contreras

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
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Will starts slapping both sides of my face to get my attention. He’s been doing this to me and Nolan for a couple of months. He showers our wives with kisses and winks, but we get slapped. Smart kid.

“Are one-year-olds supposed to hit this hard?” I flinch when he does it again.

“No slapping, Will,” Fitz reprimands softly.

“No lapping,” Will says, giggling and making the three of us grin.

“He’s so fuu— cute,” I say, catching myself.

He repeats everything these days. I hand him back to Fitz and turn at the sound of his wife’s voice.

“Logan!” Mae yells. “Bring him.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I’ll be back.”

We watch him skate off with his son, and I’m hit with an image of me doing that with my own kid.

“You’re fucking dying to have a kid,” Nolan says, shaking his head, as we start walking back to the locker rooms to get ready for the game. “Why don’t you have a serious conversation with Lyla about it and stop skirting around the subject?”

I scowl. “I don’t skirt around the subject.”

“Please, dude.” He shoots me a look. “At Thanksgiving, when my mom asked you about wanting kids in front of Lyla, you got all flustered.”

“I never get flustered.” I feel my brows pull.

He laughs. “Every time that topic comes up, you get flustered.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“I think Lyla wants to wait,” I say when we walk into the room and start grabbing the rest of our gear.

“She’s been talking about retiring since last season,” he says. “Maybe that’s part of the reason.”

“I doubt it.” I reach for my bag and look for my phone. “If I have that conversation with her, she’ll think I want her to retire.”

Lyla talks about retiring all the time, but she usually brings up going back to medicine. I usually try to listen and not give her my input. Of course, the selfish asshole in me wants her to retire, especially now that I’ll be home, but I love her too much to hint at it. The look in her eyes when she’s on the pitch is worth waiting a million years to start a family. I just really hope I don’t have to. I look at my phone and see a text from her.

Lyla: YOU BETTER KICK ASS OUT THERE TONIGHT! I love you

I smile, shaking my head as I type.

Me: have a great game, baby. Wish i was there. I love you more

I wait a few seconds, and when she doesn’t respond, I put the phone away and keep getting ready.

As we skate off the ice during the first intermission, we read the signs the fans are holding up. I never pay attention to them during the game, but I try to read them when I get a breather. I swear they get more ridiculous every week. In the best way. One reads LEAVE YOUR WIFE FOR ME B4 I THROW A FITZ. We laugh and check for Mae to see if she caught it. Our wives think most of the signs are hysterical. The baby ones, not so much, but they have a laugh at the rest. Another reads DUKE-I’LL BE YOUR DUCHESS. PUT A BABY IN ME. I’ve been seeing a variation of that one for years, and I’ve never thought twice about it.

Lyla hates it, which I used to get a kick out of, but now that babies are on my mind, I wish I could rip it from their hands and throw the damn thing away. A couple of similar ones about marriage and babies are directed at Nolan and some other guys. I don’t know how they do it, but they never seem to run out of creative shit to write. As we skate by, my eyes fall on Lyla’s empty seat. I hate not seeing her in it. I wonder if she feels the same when she sees my usual seat empty at her home stadium.

The night goes on. We’re up four to two, but I narrowly score a fifth goal with ten seconds left and the crowd goes wild, as if we’d been losing all along. This energy is what I’ll miss when I retire. I throw up my arms in celebration, as my teammates all skate over and squeeze the shit out of me. When the game officially ends, I make my way around the ice, putting my hand on the plexiglass as I go to celebrate with the fans.

When I reach the section our wives sit in, I wave at Mae and Nolan’s wife, who’s standing behind her cheering. I’m about to turn around when I see a ridiculous sign. When I read this one, my heart drops. I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things, but the words remain the same.

GET READY “DADDY” DUKE! WE’RE HAVING A BABY!



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